


To, Two, Too

by TylerCherry81 (orphan_account)



Series: Hurt and Perhaps Some Comfort [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Author Projecting onto Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Crowley Has an Anxiety Disorder (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Oblivious Crowley (Good Omens), Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 04:30:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20594744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TylerCherry81
Summary: The two knew that they had to stop this at once. Six thousand bloody years of dancing around each other as if they weren’t painfully in love had to come to a stop. Crowley had figured it out a while ago but did nothing to get rid of the painful feeling in his chest. Aziraphale, on the other hand, had discovered their dangerous dance and quickly decided that he wanted to do something about it.





	To, Two, Too

**Author's Note:**

> yes i know the title is shit but i got attached to it when i used it as the working title and now it stays

The pair sat in painfully awkward silence for minutes, each silently hoping that the other would speak up so he wouldn’t have to. Aziraphale was suddenly very conscious of how sweaty his hand was becoming while against Crowley’s. The demon, similarly, was unexpectedly aware of his own heartbeat. He wondered if Aziraphale noticed his pulse racing and if so, what was he thinking about him?

‘_If he noticed, he would have said something, right? He definitely would have said something_.’ Crowley reasoned with himself, biting his lip worryingly and messing about with the sheets with his other hand. His fingers traced the creases in the fabric and he quickly became transfixed by the little patterns the wrinkles in the material make.

“So—” Aziraphale began, the sound in the room shocking Crowley and making him jump slightly. “Oh, I’m sorry my dear boy. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Crowley adjusted his glasses, attempting to keep up a nonchalant facade while internally he was ready to spontaneously combust. “’M fine, angel.”

“Oh… well,” Aziraphale paused for a second and Crowley noticed how flushed the angels’ face was. A small part of him thrilled at the fact that he made his angel blush, and the rest of the parts of him screamed to ‘_kiss him already you flash bastard**[1]**._’

The two knew that they had to stop this at once. Six thousand bloody years of dancing around each other as if they weren’t painfully in love had to come to a stop. Crowley had figured it out a while ago but did nothing to get rid of the painful feeling in his chest when the angel did so much as look at someone besides him[2]. Aziraphale, on the other hand, had discovered their dangerous dance and quickly decided that he wanted to do something about it. The angel realized everything was falling into place all too fast, though, and he needed to slow down lest he go to fast for Crowley[3].

“I believe it is frightfully important, but I just… I can’t bring myself to say it.” He looked at Crowley nervously, studying the demon’s face carefully for any hint of tenderness. He didn’t want to mess this up. A bubble of worry expanded in the center of his ribcage and he suddenly couldn’t voice his thoughts anymore. “Crowley, I’m sorry.” Was all he could get out, squeezing the demon’s hand tightly.

“It’s fine angel, you’re okay.” His voice was sweet and soft as a cloud. Aziraphale wanted to lean into the demon and let the burden of saying this fall off of his shoulders with no repercussions. For once in the angel’s long life, he didn’t want to use his words. He wanted to make it simple and just pull Crowley close by that stupid strip of fabric he called a tie and kiss him. He thought for the longest time that the only reason he paid attention to Crowley’s tie was because he wanted to knot it properly. The reason he paid attention to it, in fact, was because he wanted to use it as leverage to kiss him.

Aziraphale felt his face go red and he cursed under his breath.

“What’sssso hard to say, angel?” Crowley asks— slightly teasing— and he gets a sudden rush of want that told him to put his hand on the angels’ face to comfort him.

“Anything at all. It’s just… difficult to speak around you.” Crowley’s face falls. “Not like that! I feel like I can tell you anything, Crowley.” He says his name so sweetly that Crowley really wonders if Aziraphale feels the same way as him. “I need to tell you something and we’ve already been dodging this conversation for at least a century, but I can’t say it.”

“A century?” Crowley says in disbelief. ‘_If Aziraphale really is going to confess, it would be a bit more than a century_,’ Crowley thought. ‘_It would have to be at least a millennium, right? It could’ve been the church. He likes books a sodding lot._’ Crowley reasoned, unintentionally blocking out the rest of the world as he dove deeper into his contemplations. ‘_Yeah, that might be it. I save his books and he’s all like, “Oh__Crowley_, I love you more than anything. Run off to Alpha Centauri with me, my dear._” I mean, it doesn’t really sound like him, ‘specially the last bit, but something like that, probably.’_

“Crowley, did you hear me?” Aziraphale’s tone was on the edge of sadness but lingered on the trademark kindness that the angel seemed to exude with every word.

“Sorry, I was thinking.” His eyes darted away from the disappointed angel. He messed up, didn’t he? He was zoning out and Aziraphale said something important and he missed it. Their friendship was going to go downhill, and it started now. He didn’t hear what the angel said and that marked the beginning of the end, didn’t it? There was no way that his—

“I love you.”

And Crowley gave the best response he could with his mind still racing with self-doubt.

“What?”

“I did a whole spiel about how much you mean to me, Crowley.” The angel spoke with a joking exasperation in his voice, his eyes staying fixated on the demon. He smiled softly and you could pinpoint the exact moment when Crowley’s heart positively melted. “I love you, and I have since at least the nineteen forties. Possibly before even _that _as well, but it did take me a while to realize, so I do apolo—” 

Despite loving where the conversation was going, Crowley cut Aziraphale off with a kiss. He had always wanted to do that. His lips felt so nice against his. They were opposites in nearly every way, with physical appearance being at the forefront of those differences. Aziraphale’s lips were rounded and flushed[4]an appealing pink. Crowley’s hands were on Aziraphale’s face quickly, his fingertips brushing into the angels’ hair. Crowley desperately wanted to pull on it but part of his mind echoed ‘_You go too fast for me, Crowley,_’ before he could do anything.

Aziraphale either didn’t have that little voice in his head that told him that everything he did was wrong, or he simply ignored it because he was hurriedly biting at Crowley’s bottom lip. Despite never being in this position before [5], Aziraphale had read enough romance novels to vaguely know what he was doing. His fingers clumsily tangled in the demon’s hair, tugging slightly to bring him closer. A low groan rumbled at the base of Crowley’s throat as Aziraphale pulled his hair, coaxing more kisses out of him.

Crowley gently pulled away from the angel’s mouth— not to breathe, but to tell Aziraphale three specific words that he’d been holding back from saying since Eden.

“I love you.”

“Too.”

“What?”

“You were supposed to say, ‘I love you too.’ I said it first. Therefore, a ‘too’ is in order.” Aziraphale teased lightly, smiling devilishly at Crowley. After an irritated sigh, he responded.

“Alright then, angel. I love you too.” Despite the venom in his words, there was a genuine smile on Crowley’s face.

“That’s better.”

* * *

[1]The voice in his head was not— in fact— Hastur, despite most of his insecurities being a product of the Duke of Hell’s words.

[2]Crowley was kind of— as the kids say— a yandere.

[3]Ironic, he knows.

[4]Everything Crowley particularly liked about the angel were the bits that were rounded and flushed.

[5]Similar to Crowley’s boast about shagging Freddie Mercury, Aziraphale had never done anything more than holding hands with Oscar Wilde. When Crowley had first heard about their supposed relationship, he had spent most of his time doing what was described in the first part of this series.

**Author's Note:**

> they're gonna do the do in the next part so those of you concerned for these poor virgins don't have to worry


End file.
